


20 Days of Chub: Being in Denial About Weight Gain

by Star_Sniper



Series: 20 Days of Chub: Eren/Armin [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Belly Kink, M/M, Modern AU, Stuffing, University AU, Weight Gain, chubby!armin, fat appreciation, fat kink, fat!armin, some sex talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:12:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Sniper/pseuds/Star_Sniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin can barely fit into his clothes. He claims they're shrinking in the wash, but Eren has another theory. </p><p>[20 Days of Chub taken from the <a href="http://iwritetheweirdstuff.tumblr.com/post/131390268767/20-days-of-chub-kink">20 Days of Chub Challenge.</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	20 Days of Chub: Being in Denial About Weight Gain

His clothes must have shrunk in the shoddy university tumble dryers. Again. Armin grimaced as he struggled to pull his jeans up over his thighs. The denim chafed against his soft skin but slowly, and surely, they were edging up his legs. He pulled with all of his strength, his fingers curling through his belt loops in order to get some traction. The waistband reluctantly crept up towards his hips, before wedging tightly underneath his backside. The muscles in Armin's arms _burned_ as he tried to force the jeans to go higher, but they refused to budge. Finally Armin had to let go, panting softly as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms, hoping to alleviate his aching muscles. 

These jeans were supposed to be a close fit, he noted warily, but they were even tighter since they had shrunk in the wash. The denim encased his thighs like it was a second skin, he could barely move as he shuffled over towards his full length mirror. Armin frowned as he studied his reflection, the waistband was sat under his hips in such a way that it was making him look, well, _squishy_. He turned to the side and gasped, his jeans were making him look as if he had a belly. Armin grabbed the waistband to pull them back down, his cheeks flushing pink at the sheer effort it took to push them back over his thighs. As the denim was, quite literally, peeled away, he could see that angry red imprints had been left against his skin. 

“I didn't expect to wake up to a show,” Eren called from the bed, the blankets rustling as he moved to sit up against the small mound of pillows that Armin insisted on having, “I'm definitely liking the part when you take your clothes off again.” 

“They shrunk in the wash,” Armin rubbed his hands against his burning cheeks as he stepped out of his jeans, “There's something wrong with the dryers here. They keep shrinking all of my clothes. Those were the last of my jeans that actually fit me,” he leant over to pick his jeans up off the floor, only to hear Eren inhale sharply behind him, “Eren?” he questioned, peering over his shoulder at his boyfriend, “Is something the matter?”

“No,” Eren coughed, his gaze raising up from where he had been openly staring at Armin's backside, “How about you just forget your clothes all together? Come back into bed?” He threw back a corner of the covers, and patted the mattress invitingly. “Please?”

Armin hesitated as he folded his shrunken jeans over his arm. While it was the weekend, he did have some work to do. It wasn't essential work, Armin made a point of being ahead in each and every one of his classes, but it was work he felt he needed to do. Still, he found himself nodding as he tidied his jeans away. When it came to Eren, suddenly his university work didn't seem so important. 

“You're going to be a bad influence on my grades,” Armin warned his boyfriend as he climbed back into bed, and gasped as Eren's arm hooked about his waist, pulling him across the bed, “Ahh! Eren!” Armin's heart raced in his chest as he felt Eren's lips press against his own. Eren's hand slipped down from the small of Armin's back, his calloused fingers cupping one of his ass cheeks, Armin let out a startled moan into their kiss as those fingers sunk in against his backside. Eren broke the kiss and pulled back slightly, his teal eyes dark with want as he nudged his forehead gently against Armin's. Armin gasped as Eren dropped his other hand to his ass, kneading and groping at the soft flesh with both hands. 

“I'm guessin' that the dryers also shrank your boxers?” Eren murmured, pausing to nip at Armin's lower lip, “Because your ass looks amazing in them. When you leant over,” he broke off as he tugged Armin against him, Armin could feel Eren's excitement pressing against his thigh, “Just, _wow_. I mean, your ass has always looked nothing short of incredible, but lately it's even better.” He grinned lecherously as he slipped his fingers inside the snug waistband of Armin's boxers. “There really isn't much room in here,” he commented with a teasing wriggle of his fingers, Armin's breath caught in his throat as his too-tight boxers pulled against his crotch, “You fill these out nicely, you know.”

“It's just because they're s-so tight,” Armin stammered, with each tug of the form-fitting fabric, a wave of pleasure flooded through him, “Th-the dryers here are too hot. I-it's a common problem found in c-communal laundrettes,” he squeaked as a finger stroked over the sensitive cleft between the top of his ass cheeks, “They... they run hot to eliminate the chance of spreading any infections o-or diseases. That's why... that's why my clothes have shrunk.” He whimpered softly against Eren's shoulder as he felt that probing finger moved upwards, leaving the cramped confines of Armin's boxers. 

“I dunno, Armin,” Eren ran both hands over Armin's hips, his long fingers spreading out across his stomach, “You're getting a cute little belly, too. Maybe it's not your clothes that are shrinking.” His fingertips pressed down into the soft cushion of fat that swelled from Armin's waistline, fat that Armin was adamant didn't exist. Armin felt a strange mixture of denial and _satisfaction_ curdle in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't gaining weight, it had to be the fit of his boxers. The waistband was pinching at his sides, creating the illusion of flab. It was all physics, Armin's mind insisted weakly as Eren gently pinched a roll of flab between his fingers.

“Physics,” Armin protested shakily, “When something of a certain mass or v-volume is poured into a smaller container,” he swallowed as Eren's finger dipped teasingly into his navel, “I-it can't quite fit, so the excess... mass or volume, has to go somewhere. So, in this case, it goes up and... out.”

Eren ducked his head down against Armin's neck, a deep chuckle reverberating against the blond's throat. Seconds later, Armin found himself being pushed back against the mattress, with Eren straddled across his upper legs. Armin squirmed slightly on feeling Eren's lean and toned thighs pinning him in place, his head tilting backwards to meet Eren's intense gaze. Eren grinned, a flash of white against his tanned skin, and lowered his head to crush his lips against Armin's. Eren's hands found their way back to Armin's stomach, his fingers kneading and pushing against the soft skin with a renewed vigour. 

“This has got nothing to do with physics or hot dryers,” Eren nuzzled his way down Armin's jawline, humming against the hollow of his throat, “This is all to do with you having an insatiable sweet tooth. This?” he squeezed the small overhang of Armin's belly for emphasis, “This is from those daily muffins of yours. You know, the one you always have when we get coffee. This,” he skirted his hand down over Armin's hip, to dance his fingertips across the blond's thicker thighs, “Is from the sweet stash in your desk drawer. The one you didn't know I knew about.” He silenced Armin's protest by kissing him, both of his hands sliding backwards to cup Armin's rounded rear.

“And this?” Eren continued, before heaving a longing sigh, “... I can't think of anything to associate with this. Only that it's fucking amazing.”

Armin felt his heart skip a beat as Eren continued to explore his body, with teasing fingers and the occasional squeezes of the excess flesh that Armin couldn't comprehend having. He couldn't be fat, one part of his mind insisted, even as Eren made a show of stroking over Armin's protruding belly. He would have realised if he was gaining weight. He would have _known_. But, the other part of his mind argued, it would explain why the university dryers were only shrinking _his_ clothes. Because they weren't shrinking them at all. 

It was Armin was growing. Gaining weight, and filling out his clothes until they could barely fit him. Armin's breath hitched as he looked down at himself, at the way his stomach swelled upwards, at the way the tops of his thighs pressed against one another. He watched as Eren eased the waistband of his boxers down, down from underneath his belly, over his rounder backside, and finally down over his softer thighs. Armin felt Eren trace the red lines that had been imprinted against his waistline, and the bizarre sensation sent a shiver down his spine. 

Was he bigger? Was he softer? Was he _fatter_? Armin swallowed hard past the lump of denial in his throat. No he wasn't. No, he _couldn't_ be. How could he let himself go like that?

“Shut up and kiss me.” Armin wound his arms tightly about Eren's neck, catching his lips against his own. Eren made a low noise of approval in his throat, and deepened the kiss with a gentle flick of his tongue. Armin sank into the embrace, his fingers curling into the short strands of hair that fell to the base of Eren's neck. Eren shifted his weight against Armin, and this time the blond was able to feel Eren's prominent excitement pressing against the gentle swell of his belly. 

\-----

It had taken him the better part of his Saturday night, but he was _finally_ done. Armin sighed in relief as he leant back in his desk chair, his eyes raking over the last few lines of his essay. He saved the document, twice just to be on the safe side, and then once more onto his flash drive. He then closed the lid of his laptop, and pulled open the top drawer of his desk. He rummaged around before finding what he was looking for. He pulled the chocolate bar out from the assortment of brightly coloured sweets and treats, and peeled it open as he stood up from his desk. He broke off an uneven section of chocolate, and ate it with a contented sigh. The sweet taste of the chocolate sent a wave of warmth through him, helping to ease the tension in his small shoulders, tension that came with being hunched over a laptop for hours on end. 

University had been tougher than Armin had anticipated. He had never had any trouble keeping up in school, and he had stayed effortlessly at the top of his class throughout both middle school and high school. He was highly intelligent, with a thirst for learning, and he genuinely couldn't recall the last time he had struggled with anything academic. It wasn't that he was falling behind, Armin made a point of being slightly ahead of the rest of the class, he just had to work a lot harder than he was used to. He spent most of his evenings studying and working and slowly, but surely, it had led to him becoming stressed and tired. 

And the quickest way to fight both his fatigue and his stress had been sugar. Sugar in the form of chocolate and candy, in the form of soda and energy drinks. Armin bit into his king-sized chocolate bar as he padded across the bedroom, rubbing his free hand blearily over his eyes. He had the apartment to himself that evening, given that Eren was out watching “the game” down at the local bar with his friends, and Armin was grateful for the peace and quiet. A mild headache had started to throb against his temples, and his stomach growled underneath his t-shirt. Armin hadn't eaten since lunch time. Well, _technically_ he had eaten his way through two large bags of candy and another king-sized chocolate bar in addition to the one in his hand, but that wasn't real food.

Armin's t-shirt hitched up with each footstep, revealing a sliver of soft, pale skin. Armin frowned and grabbed the hem to tug it back down into place. Eren's words from earlier were still haunting him. Armin looked down at himself, at the swell of his stomach underneath his form-fitting t-shirt. At the way his sweatpants were pulled tightly across his backside, creases forming where they had stretched over his thighs. He ran the flat of his palm down over his rounded side as he headed towards the bathroom, where the exotic scent of Eren's shower gel still lingering in the humid air. He and Eren hadn't discussed what had been said in bed, Eren appeared to regret ever bringing it up, and Armin had burrowed himself deeper into denial. 

But facts and figures? Armin couldn't argue with facts and figures. 

Armin tugged on the drawstring light switch to turn the bathroom light on, his tired eyes aching as they adjusted to the glare. He chewed his way through another mouthful of chocolate as he approached the electronic scales. He had last weighed himself shortly before he had attended university for the first time, just over a year ago. He had gotten his driver's license back then, and the neatly typed print on his driver's licence had put him as being 5'4 and 121lbs. Around average for his height, if on the small side. Armin swallowed nervously as he stepped onto the scales, and watched as the LED screen flared to life. The numbers flickered as the scales worked out his weight, and Armin curled his fingers a little more tightly about his chocolate bar. 

He couldn't be fat. His clothes had been shrunk. They were just too tight, which made him look a little bigger. Armin closed his eyes tightly as the scales beeped softly, to indicate that they had finished weighing him. He couldn't bear to look at his weight, afraid that it would confirm everything that Eren had said. 

Finally, Armin opened his eyes, and looked down at the display.

**165lbs**

“No,” Armin murmured, his eyes widening as he read the numbers over and over, as if hoping they would change, “That's impossible. Forty-four pounds? I'd of noticed if I'd of put on forty-four pounds!” His mind reeled as he stepped backwards off the scales, the LED display fading. Forty-four pounds in a year? Armin stood back onto the scales, feeling numb as he watched the numbers flicker again. That was around three pounds a month, nearly a pound a _week_. It didn't make sense, it just didn't add up. 

**165lbs**

“I'm fat,” Armin looked to the mostly eaten chocolate bar in his hand, only a few squares were left, “I really am fat.” That same strange sensation was back, the ambivalent feeling of disgust and excitement. Of fear and anticipation. Of loathing and pleasure. A part of Armin wanted to throw the rest of his chocolate away, but the other half wanted him to eat the chocolate. A slow burning anger flared in the pit of Armin's stomach. He was already fat, would it really matter if he finished the chocolate bar? His stomach grumbled quietly, almost in response, and Armin crammed the last of the chocolate between his lips. He chewed and swallowed, but he didn't feel satisfied. He didn't feel _full._

Armin looked up from his rounded stomach, and through the open bathroom door. On the far side of the bedroom, he could just about see the corner of his desk. And the open drawer of sweet treats that he had been snacking on throughout the evening. Armin moved without thinking, his bare feet padding across the tiled floor, back into the bedroom. He approached his desk, and lifted the open drawer until it came up and off of its rails. Despite the fact that Armin had been grazing through the snacks over the past few hours, the drawer was still close to overflowing with all manner of candy and chocolate bars. Armin tucked it underneath his arm, and carried it with him to the bed, where the sheets were still skewed from his and Eren's earlier activities. He settled himself back against the pillows, and set the snack filled drawer down between his legs. 

“I can't,” Armin muttered, despite the frustration welling up inside of him, “I shouldn't.” He plunged his hand into the mass of treats, and withdrew a bag of chocolate coated marshmallows. He ripped open the corner of the packet, and slipped his hand inside to grab a handful of sweets. He then crammed that handful into his mouth, chewing his way through the chocolate coated lumps as his other hand felt around for yet another king-sized bar of chocolate. This one had a tart raspberry filling, Armin crammed a couple of squares past his lips before he had finished eating his first mouthful. The sweet taste did little to sate his anger, and he continued alternating between the marshmallows and the bar of chocolate until his fingertips were left grasping at empty packets.

As Armin ate, the soft pooch of his stomach began to round out. His t-shirt rolled up over his slowly expanding belly, the supple fat becoming taut and drum-like with each packet of sweets. Armin felt full around half-way through a packet of fruit flavoured gummy sweets, but forced himself to keep going. The same thoughts kept circulating in his mind as he ate, that he was fat, that he both detested yet loved the feeling of it. He tore open packet after packet, and his stomach swelled out, pushing it's way over the waistband of his sweatpants. He was so bloated that he could barely move, and each staggered breath sent a dull ache across his side. 

“Oh,” Armin groaned as he finished off a bag of white chocolate buttons, leaving the empty packet on the bedspread next to him, “I c-can't... can't move.” Despite how uncomfortable he felt, he reached into the drawer for something else, for _anything_ else. His heart leapt into his throat on feeling nothing but empty wrappers. He moved his hand left and right, searching for something solid amongst the swathes of plastic. There was nothing left, even the roll of chewy mints, that he used to freshen his breath, hadn't been left untouched during his binge. Armin looked down at himself, and yelped on seeing how far his stomach was sticking out. 

“Ow,” Armin whimpered as he leant over to brush the remaining packets into the empty drawer, stuffing himself senseless wasn't any excuse for making a mess, “Hurts.” He gingerly stood up from the bed, and a sharp bolt of pain shot across his bloated belly. Armin rubbed a hand over his side to try and ease his discomfort, from this angle he looked pregnant. He shuffled his way back into the bathroom, letting out small noises of pain with each accidental jostle of his stomach, and ran himself a hot bath. He added a dollop of lavender bubble-bath underneath the running water, and the sweet, flowery smell began to fill the bathroom. 

Armin undressed himself with trembling fingers, forever catching the swell of his stomach out of the corner of his eye. He left his clothes crumpled on the bathroom floor, and carefully lowered himself into the gently steaming bathwater. A long sigh floated out over his lower lip as he sank into the hot embrace of the water, it was already soothing the dull ache of his overstuffed stomach. He leant back against the sloped surface of the bathtub, able to see the crest of his stomach poke up through the surface of the water. A pale island of flesh, that rose and fell with each breath. Armin reached out lazily to trace the round curve of it with his fingertips, it felt so firm and _solid_ to the touch. His index finger skirted around the edge of his deep navel, his mind drifting back to when Eren had done the same thing. 

“Armin?” Armin flinched in surprise on hearing Eren's voice, and looked up to see his boyfriend standing in the doorway, a sheepish expression etched over his handsome face, “Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. You, uhh,” Eren's voice trailed off as his eyes found the swell of Armin's protruding stomach, “I mean,” Eren shook his head, and cleared his throat with a sharp cough, “Are you okay? I said some things earlier, and I know we're not talking about it, but I get the feeling that I really upset you. I'm really sorry, Armin.” Eren knelt down next to the bathtub, his green eyes softening in concern. “I really am.” 

“No,” Armin shook his head, “Eren. It wasn't your fault. You were telling the truth. That happens to be something I love about you. Your brutal honesty,” he smiled a little, and lowered his gaze, looking out at his pale belly through his eyelashes, “I have put on weight. A lot of weight. The dryers didn't shrink my clothes.” He sighed, and ran the pad of his thumb in slow circles against his rounded side. “I just grew out of them. So it should be me apologising to you. For being a stubborn idiot.”

“Hey,” Eren murmured soothingly, resting his lower arms down against the rim of the bathtub, “No need to apologise. Though it does make a change, me not being the stubborn idiot for once.” He grinned, that beautiful, knee-weakening grin of his, and Armin couldn't stop himself from smiling back. His breath caught in his throat as Eren's large hand joined his, lightly calloused fingers brushing teasingly over Armin's baby soft skin. “So, um,” Eren began casually, shifting his weight from one knee to the other, “How much weight have you put on? If you don't mind me knowin'.”

“Forty-four pounds,” Armin felt the heat rise in his cheeks, shame and pleasure sparking in his stomach, “I know. It's a lot. I-” he cut himself off on seeing the tented front of Eren's jeans, his cheeks colouring further “Eren! Really?”

“Oh,” Eren chuckled sheepishly as he massaged the heel of his palm against Armin's bloated belly, “Sorry. It's not what you think. Not really. See,” he settled down against the bath tub, his knees drawn up to his chest, “For as long as I've known you, you've been all neat and collected. You've always held yourself with a certain, what's the word?” he looked upwards, as if in thought, “Polish? It's like you never let yourself relax, never yourself let go. Except,” he grinned wickedly, and Armin gasped as he poked a long finger into the side of his stomach, “When you're underneath me. Face flushed, hair all over the place, your shirt collar all crumpled and uneven...” 

“I'm not sure how this relates to you getting... excited about me putting on weight,” Armin remarked lightly, Eren's touches were heavenly against his taut, round stomach, even the softest brush sent shivers down his spine, “N-not that I don't appreciate it.”

“Let me finish,” Eren patted the top of Armin's stomach, “So I figure, you being like this, is you finally letting go. Finally giving yourself a chance to relax. I know you've been working really hard ever since you got here. So seeing you like this,” he moved his hand under the water, his fingers trailing up Armin's softer chest, “It's really nice. Means you're letting yourself relax more. Spoiling yourself more. You know? Plus,” his grin turned sheepish, “You do look really cute with a few extra pounds.” 

“I'm not certain I understand,” Armin admitted, keening lowly in his throat as Eren traced against the faint curve of his soft pec, “B-but I don't really understand my own feelings about it. I hate it, but at the same time I love-” he cut himself off with a gasp as Eren gently pinched his upper arm, “I love how it feels when you do this. It's just one big... mess of feelings. I just need to work my way through them. Understand them. Understand how I feel about looking like this.”

“Well,” Eren cupped Armin's chubby cheek in the palm of his hand, “I'm behind you all the way. I promise. But for now?” he ducked his head to press a kiss to Armin's forehead, “Allow me to make the most of having a little extra you to play with?” At Armin's nod he grinned, and pulled the blond into a warm, crushing kiss.


End file.
